ꜰᴏʀᴍɪᴅᴀʙʟᴇ

𝟎𝟏

Fuck me.

The one day I find somebody cute is the one fucking day I'm going to break the record of humiliating myself as quickly as possible.

It only took five seconds.

FIVE FUCKING SECONDS to lock eyes, feel something wet, look down and realize I've bled through the front of my cargo pants.

As I practically ran out of the bus doors and into the public restroom nearby, all the while cursing the x and y chromosomes that decided to give me a vagina, I rummaged through my tote bag to find not a tampon nor pad in sight.

Fuck me.

Standing in my bloody underwear, I scrubbed at the crime scene army green Carharts to no avail, no matter how much cheap, diluted soap I lathered on.

A toilet flushed and I froze, locking eyes with a girl about my age with box braids trailing down to her ass.

She gave me a once over before a sympathetic smile rose to her lips.

"Girl, I got you," she chuckled, sifting through her backpack to get out a tampon.

Both a mortifying and endearing moment; I grabbed it and muttered a thanks.

Five minutes later, I looked like a serial killer victim with the blood decorating my pants, and people gawked as I walked toward campus.

=========

"Not. A. Fucking. WORD." I warned, putting up a finger and tossing my bag on the counter.

Harley gaped, slowly resuming stuffing their face with popcorn.

I ran into the bedroom and stripped, grabbing a spare set of clothes and walking to the bathroom.

"Why are your ass cheeks covered in blood?" I heard as I grabbed the doorknob.

Harley could never keep their trap shut for long, "Mother Nature fucked me over,".

"Mm, that's rough buddy," they muttered, crunching away.

"What? You didn't have a tampon?" They asked outside the doorway, as I turned on the hot water.

"NO! And what's worse is I saw a cute guy reading... you'll never fucking guess,"

More crunching, "What?"

"The-fucking- Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath!" I grabbed my body wash.

"You're fucking with me, I know you're fucking with me,"

"I'm not! And he was one of those... edgy... nearly malnourished boys that wear shirts that say, 'Let's summon demons...' or 'Let's start a cult!' or some shit."

"Oh my god, the dude's literally a male version of you!" they commented.

"I fucking know!" I furiously washed myself off.

"So, did you say anything to him... or Jedi Mind Trick his ass?" they crunched.

"No, I kinda couldn't since I was BLEEDING OUT OF MY FUCKING UTERUS," I said sarcastically, finishing my shower.

"Yikes, there's no coming back from that..."

"Thank you, Harley... for your encouraging words." I toweled off.

"I mean, what are the chances you'll ever see this dude again?"

"I don't know, one in eight billion?" I whined, putting in a tampon.